


Golden

by goddessofcruelty



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bloodplay, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Butt Plugs, Episode: s09e16 Blade Runners, Face-Fucking, Humiliation, M/M, Pain, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sounding, Whipping, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-17 15:57:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1393636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddessofcruelty/pseuds/goddessofcruelty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He reaches upwards to tangle his fingers in the blonde curls, tugging Balthazar's head down to his. The angel's lips part, expecting a kiss, but Crowley bites instead, sharp teeth piercing through the blonde's lower lip.</p><p>-</p><p>Balthazar made a deal to save his life. Now, he belongs to the King of Hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Was that _really_ necessary?” Balthazar's crisp accent echoes in the room, dripping with disdain as he waves his hand and dispels the illusion, after lifting himself from the floor.

“Aw, don't be like that, pumpkin.” Crowley's somewhat less posh tones come from the bathroom area where he's wiping makeup from his face.

“You made a lovely picture with that leather miniskirt on.” He pokes his head out of the bathroom, looking the angel up and down with a leer.

Balthazar lifts the spreader bar from the bed. “And I'm certain this little prop was required as well?”

The King of Hell finishes his ablutions and drifts out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but the bottoms of his black silk pajamas. He stalks towards his angel, who refuses to give away any sign of how it affects him, assuming a bored expression.

Crowley knows, though. He's had the angel on his knees begging far too many times to be fooled.

He reaches upwards to tangle his fingers in the blonde curls, tugging Balthazar's head down to his. The angel's lips part, expecting a kiss, but Crowley bites instead, sharp teeth piercing through the blonde's lower lip.

Balthazar hisses but he knows better than to pull away. The demon's tongue laps up his blood, then sucks on the wounded lip a moment before releasing his grip on the blonde locks.

“I thought it might help keep you in character, love.” He runs a hand along Balthazar's backside, cupping his ass possessively. “Remind you who you belong to. In case you got any ideas.”

Balthazar feels himself hardening at the manhandling from Crowley, but snorts derisively. “I don't think there's any chance of that happening.” He lifts his wrist to flash the platinum bracelet engraved with enochian symbols.

“Aw, does Lola want _more_ pretty jewelry?” Crowley's tone is mocking. “I'm not certain you've earned your reward. You weren't able to get to Abaddon after all.”

The angel glowers. “It's not as if I didn't make the attempt.” He suppresses a shiver as Crowley's thumb runs across the fabric of his suit coat, directly over where the demon had pierced his nipple, again with enochian carved platinum. “And no, I think what accoutrements I have already are more than enough.”

“I wonder how many bindings it will take to shut you up.” Crowley presses his thumb along the zipper of the angel's slacks, smirking at the hitch in his breath at the pressure.

“The world may never know.”

The King of Hell can't help the short laugh at the continued attitude and shakes his head. “If only I'd known about your mouth when I agreed to save you from Castiel.”

The angel smirks and rolls his hips forward, pushing into Crowley's touch, leaning in to whisper. “Oh but darling, I know how you love my mouth.”

“Oh for the love of – Knees, now.” Crowley knows he doesn't have time for this, has to strike while the iron's hot, but he simply cannot resist the angel when he gets like this.

Balthazar sinks to his knees, gracefully as he does everything, somehow giving the impression that he's doing this of his own volition, and not because Crowley is compelling him. _Fucking angels_.

He leans in, mouthing at Crowley's cock through the silk, hands clasped tightly at the small of his back. Crowley watches him until there's a significant wet spot at the front of his pajamas, and then hooks his thumbs underneath the waistband, stepping back and out of the black silk.

Returning to where Balthazar has remained, unmoving, Crowley presses just the tip of his dick through the soft parted lips of the angel. Slowly he slides further in, one hand on himself, the other grabbing a fistful of curls in order to direct his angel.

Crowley pulls on the fisted locks until his cock slides into the angel's throat, holding there a moment.

“Lets see those beautiful blue eyes.” Balthazar looks up through his lashes, and Crowley holds his gaze, watching the angel struggle with his vessel as the human body insists on unneeded breath. A tear trickles down one cheek before Crowley relents and slides back out enough for Balthazar to gasp for air.

His hands never move from where they're clenched behind him. He'd learned physical obedience. Eventually.

“This'll be quick and dirty, pet, but I promise to take care of you later.” Crowley grasps the blonde locks with both hands, fucking himself in and out of the hot, wet heat of Balthazar's mouth.

Crowley swears softly and his rhythm stutters just before he's about to finish, and Balthazar takes initiative for the first time, pressing his tongue up along the underside of the demon's dick. He slides his tongue along the skin, then frees his death lock on his hands, bringing them around and digging them forcefully into the meat of Crowley's ass. At the same time, Balthazar moans around the length and then sucks hard.

Crowley swears in an inventive mix of living and dead languages, and shoves himself all the way into Balthazar's throat as he orgasms, come still pulsing out as he slowly withdraws. Balthazar swallows what is deposited on his tongue and then flicks his tongue out to catch the last few drops that drip along his lips.

The angel's fingers unclench and free Crowley and he swears again.

“You little fucking brat.” Crowley casually backhands the angel for his disobedience, and then gestures, healing the deep bruises that Balthazar no doubt intended for him to carry with him this evening.

He refuses to let Balthazar heal his split lip. “No more than you deserve, darling.”

Crowley snaps his fingers and he is dressed, perfectly tailored suit in black as always.

“You _really_ need to expand your color palette.”

Crowley just sighs and rolls his eyes.

“Now, don't forget, while I keep those damned Winchesters occupied, you need to arrange some sort of message for them.”

Balthazar smirks from where he's been knocked to the floor. “I do believe I have just the thing.”

-

When Crowley sees the car, Dean's beloved Impala, _keyed_ , graffitied in enochian, it takes everything he has not to burst into laughter. Maybe the angel has earned himself a respite after all.


	2. Chapter 2

_Previously..._

“Castiel is going to kill you.”

The blonde angel arches an eyebrow over his drink at the demon who has just appeared across the booth from him. “Hello to you too, care for a drink?”

Crowley blinks a moment and then leans back, dark eyes narrowing in thought. He snaps his fingers and a bottle of something very old and expensive appears on the table between them.

Balthazar reaches out and tilts the bottle back, studying the label as Crowley lifts a glass of something that hadn't been there before. “Well, now that's more like it. A girl does like to be wooed.”

Crowley smirks over his Craig.

The bottle vanishes and Balthazar's deep blue eyes scan Crowley. “Alright, I'll bite. Why would dear Cassie want to kill me? I've been quite useful to him, you know.”

“Because you're about to betray him.” Crowley winks, the bastard, and Balthazar feels a faint heat in his gut. He absolutely _refuses_ to consider being attracted to the scheming, arrogant, darkly handsome demon.

Balthazar forces himself to lean back casually, offering a half-shrug. “Admittedly, I'm not known for my fidelity, however such a move would hardly seem to benefit me at this juncture.”

“Do some digging, angelface. Our Cas has been a very bad boy.” Crowley reaches across the table and drags a finger along Balthazar's arm. The angel jerks back at the sudden burning sensation and jerks back, but not before he sees the digits burned into the flesh of his vessel.

The blue eyes lift to see Crowley mouth, _Call me_ , before he vanishes into the crowd.

-

Balthazar doesn't call him. He does his research.

He finds out what Crowley wanted him to. Cas is opening Purgatory to steal souls, to win the war in Heaven. There are a lot of things Balthazar can let slide, but he knows in his gut that this is going to end badly.

He does what Crowley had said he would. Balthazar goes to the Winchesters and betrays his new god.

And then he goes in search of a demon.

He finds Crowley in a very dark place. Balthazar feels his skin crawl just stepping into the place, and he's been in more than one skeevy club.

This one, however, specifically caters to demonkind and their fetishes. Balthazar has never seen anything so depraved in all his thousands of years.

“I've got friends in low places.” Crowley speaks low into the angel's ear and its all he can do not to shiver. He tells himself it's due to the nature of the place and not Crowley's proximity.

Balthazar allows his distaste to show on his face, as Crowley lounges on the plush seats across from him. “Apparently, so do I.”

“Oh, I think we're going to be so much more than friends, angel face.”

Balthazar absolutely does not react to that.

“What are your terms?” Balthazar voice is flat.

Crowley slides over a piece of paper. Balthazar grasps it but is distracted by a scream. He watches the man being tortured a moment and then turns to scan the document.

He arches a brow. “Eternity?”

Crowley leans back, eyes dark and unreadable. “Preferable to being dead, wouldn't you say?”

The angel lets the paper fall to the table. “I think I'll take my chances.”

“You don't have any bargaining chips left.” Crowley extends his hand, and a small piece of carved metal appears in it.

Balthazar recognizes it immediately. It's from his cache. Crowley has the last of his weapons, the only leverage he had over Cas.

The blue eyes narrow with real loathing. Balthazar burns his signature into the contract without looking at it again. He has no choice.

Crowley crooks a finger. “Demon deals are sealed with a kiss, my pretty.”

Balthazar rises and moves towards Crowley. The King of Hell doesn't get up, doesn't even move until Balthazar stands in front of him.

Crowley hands him a silver bracelet. Balthazar arches a brow and studies it. He purses his lips.

“Just a little something to ensure your good behavior.” Balthazar is forced to clasp the symbol of servitude around his own wrist.

“There's a good boy. Now, on your knees for Daddy.”

Balthazar snorts. “I hardly think so.”

Crowley smirks.

 

Abruptly, Balthazar feels a heavy weight on his wrist. He sets his jaw and stares at the bracelet as it forces him to his knees. All at once, the pressure fades and a tingly warmth spreads from his arm throughout his body.

Crowley scoots to the edge of his seat and reaches out to grab a handful of Balthazar's blonde locks. He pulls the defiant angel closer so that he is kneeling in between the demon's legs.

Crowley grins at the fire snapping in the angels' eyes as he pulls Balthazar's head back. “I'm going to enjoy breaking you, angel face.”

He leans forward, pressing his lips against those of Balthazar's.

The angel feels something like electricity run through him at the contact, as the binding of their deal sets in.

And then electricity of a rather different sort as Crowley's tongue parts his lips and thrusts within. Balthazar opens up to him, kneeling in a river of blood, and the angel is lost.

-

_Now..._

Balthazar doesn't like to admit it to himself but he's felt more alive in the past decade than he had through millenia serving in the garrison.

Castiel and his Winchesters at first, and then the last few months with Crowley. Especially with Crowley. The demon makes him feel vibrant and desired.

Castiel fought to bring free will to Heaven, the Winchesters to preserve their species and Balthazar fought because...well, he was bored.

With Crowley, he's rarely bored.

“Heavy thoughts, angel face?”

Balthazar glanced over to where Crowley sat at his desk doing paperwork. “You look like the CEO of a Fortune 500 company.”

Crowley inclined his head. “They get better pay. And a marginally deeper talent pool. Demons are so _stupid_.”

It's not the first time he's heard the complaint. “That ninth circle again?” Balthazar sips his wine, lounging on the plush chair while he waits for his King.

“Aye.” Crowley doesn't keep secrets from Balthazar. He has no need to. The angel is his for eternity. “There must be something in the air down there that breeds stupidity.” He makes a note in the file he's perusing.

“Alright, darling, you're getting that pinched look.” Balthazar rises and claps his hands. “How about sushi?”

Crowley considers and then nods, rising and stepping to his angel, tucking his arm through the extended one. Balthazar leans in and presses his lips to Crowley's forehead, and when he pulls them away, they're just outside the most high end sushi place in San Francisco.

After, they take a walk alongside the ocean, and generally act like any normal human couple.

-

When they get home, their home, a mansion that Crowley let Balthazar decorate in whatever suited his fancy, Crowley grabs a handful of the angel's hair and drags him downstairs.

The whole basement is a playroom. Of the bloody and painful sort.

Before long, Balthazar is stretched between two posts, wrists and ankles bound while Crowley whips him with a special flail whip that he made himself. The leather was made from the skin of a Knight of Hell, and the tiny metal beads from an angle blade that Crowley had melted down.

It's not until the angel's back and torso are a bloody mess that Crowley frees him from the bonds. The demon lays his angel across the bed and drags his tongue along the welts, tasting Balthazar's blood before kissing him demandingly, forcing him to suck it from Crowley's tongue.

Crowley orders the blonde to move, shifting him so that he's on his hands and knees. The King of Hell gestures and a small box appears. The light catches on three silver fletchettes nestled in red silk. These are his own creations as well, again made from an angel blade. He makes incisions up and down Balthazar's back and ass, pausing to taste the crimson vitae from time to time.

When he's satisfied, Crowley dismisses the blades, running his thumb along the bleeding areas, bringing the liquid down and using it as lubricant, swirling his thumb around the angel's tight hole before sliding it within.

He gestures and the invisible gag vanishes and the panting of the angel echoes in the room. He runs a hand along Balthazar's front, slicking that hand up with blood as well, and then wraps it around the angel's hard length.

When the panting evolves into breathy moans, Crowley pulls back, propping himself up on some pillows and snapping his fingers. Balthazar turns, crawling up towards the demon in a manner reminiscent of a cat.

Balthazar leans close and drags his tongue along the underside of Crowley's cock, and the demon buries his fingers in the angel's curls. Balthazar gently uses his tongue on the sacs beneath, and then pushes further still, worshiping his king with his tongue.

Crowley mouths obscenities and taunts the angel. “Look at you, slut. Once heaven's warrior, now you've got your tongue buried in my ass. And you're loving every minute of it. Your dick's leaking already, you're liking it so much.”

He tugs on the locks and force-feeds the angel his cock. He fucks the angel's mouth and throat for a while before he lifts Balthazar off.

“Now turns around and ride me, you whore.” Balthazar's ice blue eyes glint a moment, of all words that one bothers him the most, and Crowley knows it. He also knows that Balthazar won't say a word, is actually prohibited from speaking in this one place, and has had the lesson carved into his flesh. Literally.

So Balthazar obeys with his jaw set, but the irritation does nothing to dispel the lust in him, and he gasps out softly as he settles onto Crowley's admittedly impressive manhood. Crowley sits up slightly, just so that he is able to slide his hands along the angel's body as it moves.

He extends his tongue once again and laps at the angel's blood, while his hands curl around Balthazar's hips, sharp nails digging in and drawing more blood.

“Wings,” he murmurs, and Balthazar shudders before manifesting his wings for his owner. They are not so massive as Gabriel's or even Cas's, but they are impressive nonetheless, and still shimmer golden, no matter how long he's been tainted by Hell.

Crowley detaches his fingers from the angel's skin and runs them through the golden feathers. Balthazar's moans become more desperate and Crowley snaps, “Now.” At the same time, he grabs a fistful of feathers in each hand and yanks them down hard.

Balthazar comes untouched, shooting his seed onto the bed. Crowley, still with his hands buried in feathers, forces him down, so that the angel's face is in his mess. “Clean it,” he growls.

Using the grasp in Balthazar's wings as handholds, Crowley fucks him hard, until he jerks a few times and then finishes, filling the angel with his fluids.

He holds there a moment and then reaches for the golden plug on the bedside table, smoothly withdrawing and sealing Balthazar's entrance with the hard metal.

Crowley orders Balthazar to kneel up, and fastens the delicate golden chains that connect the plug to the angel's nipple piercings. With a swipe of his hand, the King of Hell removes the blood from Balthazar, though he leaves the welts. He then pulls the golden sound from the table, slowly sliding that in place. That has a tiny hook on the end for chains, as well.

When he is done, Balthazar is covered in a mesh of golden that matches his wings. With every move he makes, the chains shiver, sparkling in the light.

Crowley gently pats down the feathers, repairing a few that were broken from the rough handling. He then takes a step back to admire Balthazar.

“Just exquisite, darling.”

Crowley lifts Balthazar, kissing the angel softly, and carries him upstairs. The demon settles him on a cushion in the direct sunlight, so that he can catch every shimmer of movement Balthazar makes.

Balthazar curls up and promptly goes to sleep.

Crowley could wake him, punish him for insolence...but the truth is that he rather likes the displays that the angel puts on.

He decides to flay a few ninth circle demons instead.

**Author's Note:**

> Rape/Non-Con: Balthazar is forced to service Crowley through magical and physically violent means.
> 
> Inspiration: Bleeding Out by Imagine Dragons
> 
> Please let me know if I need to tag anything else. <3 
> 
> [Tumblr](goddessofcruelty.tumblr.com)


End file.
